Of fathers and sons
by BlackEyedGirl
Summary: Some family we're given, and some chooses us. Part 4 of the Fairytale series. Sequel to Green Eyed Monsters. Sam, Leo friendship.


* * *

Category: Drama

Summary: Some family we're given, and some chooses us. Part four in the Fairytale series (sequel to Green Eyed Monsters) with a Sam-Leo bias to the friendship

Spoilers: The other three parts of this series. Goes A/U post-Disaster Relief Disclaimer: West Wing is not mine but remains the exclusive property of Aaron Sorkin et al. Fiona is mine. As are my interpretations of Sam's parents and some backstory.

A/N1: Part four in the Fairytale Series. I know I said no more, what can I say, I'm mercurial. This one is a little angstier, less funny. It has a sequel planned already which is lighter but this one, for some reason, ended up a bit political.  
  
This is my warning. There are things in here criticising some of the Christian Right in America. Not Christianity as a whole, but that particular strand on the far right. I don't think anyone who's read anything of mine, or who watches West Wing in the first place, will be offended, but you've been warned. Also, brief mentions of violence.  
  
Wanted to say a quick thanks to the people who reviewed "Worth a Thousand Words" and "Holding their Leashes". Especially AnneWithane and AEM1 who seem to be competing with each other for the longest reviews. And Champagne Supernova in the Sky, the latest person to run through my back catalogue. If you see any more Britishisms, tell me, okay? I never notice these things.  
  
Dedication: To Geraldiné, the best writer of Sam-angst I know, and my favourite name to find in my inbox.

* * *

'Sam?'  
  
'Yeah?'  
  
'Leo's office.'  
  
Sam raised his head from typing to look at Toby. 'Leo's office?'  
  
'Yes. Now.'  
  
'Did I know about this?'  
  
'Why would you not?'  
  
'It's Sunday. I'm only here to write. Did something happen?'  
  
'Yes. Get Fiona in.'  
  
'She won't like that.'  
  
' I don't care. What are you writing?'  
  
'The speech.'  
  
'Really?'  
  
'Yeah.'  
  
'Did my sarcasm escape your notice there, Sam?'  
  
'Oh. Yeah.'  
  
Toby snorted. 'And it also escaped your notice that the TV has a banner saying "Bartlet under fire from Christian Right"?'  
  
Sam turned towards his muted television. 'Coming.'

* * *

'Maybe we could pass a law against these people talking,' Sam suggested, entering Leo's office.  
  
'Ignoring the first amendment again there, Sam,' Josh pointed out, smiling at his friend.  
  
'They're interfering with my right not to have to listen to this on a Sunday morning. They're preventing me from my pursuit of happiness.'  
  
'You can still pursue it,' CJ offered, 'I, for example, am trying an excellent line of denial which is working out great for me.'  
  
'CJ believes that simply reciting, "we haven't seen the show" at the Press Corps will make her problem go away.' Toby glared at her as he said this.  
  
'My problem?'  
  
'I'm sorry, Sam's problem.'  
  
Sam whipped his head around. 'What?'  
  
'This look like a problem for our Communications Director.'  
  
'I hate you.'  
  
'Who, after all, is entirely capable of doing his job without interference from either Josh or I.'  
  
'I really hate you.'  
  
'Sam?' Leo asked.  
  
'Yeah?'  
  
'Can you do this?'  
  
'Sure.' He smiled to himself. 'CJ, for now, the White House is shocked at this sudden attack from someone who has always pledged support to President Bartlet. We're working on a response to Rev. Caldwell's _list_ of complaints. Tell them that if they're really bored they should go and ask him why he has been so complimentary about the President's policies in times when he wasn't looking for media attention for his cause.'  
  
Leo nodded. 'Good.'  
  
'I should probably go and actually work on our response now that I've said we have one.'  
  
'Go!'  
  
Sam left, trailing CJ, Josh and Toby in his wake.

* * *

'Sam.' Bonnie stopped him as he entered the bullpen.  
  
'Yeah.'  
  
'Your dad called. He says he'll be here at seven.'  
  
'Thanks.'  
  
'You're meeting your dad?' Josh asked, concern in his voice.  
  
'He's stopping by to get a coffee or something while he's in town.'  
  
'What's he doing in town?'  
  
'Business thing, Josh, I don't know.'  
  
There was a silence as the four looked at each other. Josh and CJ were openly troubled whereas Toby was at least _trying_ to look unbothered.  
  
'Sam?' Josh asked.  
  
'I'm fine. But I need to work now.'  
  
'Yeah. See you for lunch?'  
  
'Yeah.' Josh and CJ walked off and Toby looked at Sam for a beat before walking into his own office. Sam shrugged and did the same.

* * *

'You can't say this.' Toby glared at the statement Sam had handed him, then glared at Sam.  
  
'Why not?'  
  
'Because it's inflammatory.'  
  
'I thought you liked inflammatory.'  
  
'Attacking the church will get you nowhere in this country, Sam.'  
  
'I'm not attacking the church.'  
  
'Listen to this: "Rev. Caldwell should examine the hypocrisy in his own movement before he criticises the President for that crime"? And it goes on. You can't _say_ this.'  
  
'I'm not criticising the church. I'm criticising Caldwell and his particular branch for preaching one thing and doing another.'  
  
'Sam...'  
  
'And more than that, surely the people of America are more concerned that their government protects the Constitution than a specific branch of Christianity. There's a reason for that part of the first amendment, Toby. It's there to protect you and Josh and Muslims and Sikhs and Buddhists and all the parts of Christianity and everybody who doesn't fall into any of those. So we govern by the Constitution and by what we believe is right. Not by what Caldwell, and that group of narrow-minded bigots he has the cheek to call a church, believe is Godly.'  
  
'I didn't say you weren't _right_, I said we couldn't say it. The people of America, concerned as they may be about their constitutional rights, support school prayer, support a more "moral" government, and whatever you may believe they mean by that, _I_ know they mean a more Christian one.'  
  
'_I_ know that isn't true. The public are ... they're maybe less committed to the "wall of separation" than we are, but they appreciate why it's there.'  
  
'Really?' Toby asked, sceptically.  
  
'Yes.'  
  
'And how does that logic play back home with voters in Orange County?' Sam went silent and stared at Toby. The older man winced. 'Sorry.'  
  
'Doesn't matter.'  
  
'Back to the statement?'  
  
'Okay.' He bent over the page again, grimacing as Toby wiped out swathes of words of indignation.

* * *

'Sam?' Ginger poked her head into Toby's office. He had temporarily taken residence there as it was bigger and Toby was with Leo. 'Your dad's here.'  
  
'Thanks, Ginger.' Smiling at him, she escorted Norman in. She disappeared, and returned with coffee and biscuits. They were brought, presumably, from assistant-land where these things could be procured without incident.  
  
'Hey Dad.'  
  
'Sam.' Norman sat down at Sam's desk and took a coffee.  
  
'Yeah.' Sam looked at the desk nervously. 'Ummm...hey, do you mind if we just have coffee up here? I know you're in a hurry to get the flight. And it's busy here right now.'  
  
'You're getting knocked around on morals.'  
  
'You heard the speech.'  
  
'Yeah. So how are things?'  
  
'Good. Things are good.'  
  
'Sure,' Norman replied doubtfully. 'So what do you think your answer should be on morality?'  
  
'Well...' Sam launched into an explanation of his position, glad to start on a neutral topic.

* * *

'I'm telling you; there's something strange there,' Josh muttered.  
  
'Again, Josh?' Leo asked wearily. He had been sitting in his office with Toby, CJ, Fiona and Josh for an hour. For at least half of that Josh had been more concerned about Sam and his father than the issue of their most public supporter on the Christian right changing sides.  
  
'Seriously.' He turned to Toby. 'You remember what his mom said while we were there?'  
  
'Yes. He's not the only person in the world with a problem with his dad.'  
  
'No. But he's our friend and he's been obsessing all day about this response.'  
  
'Did we return to the topic there without me noticing?' Leo asked.  
  
'It's obviously about his dad coming but he didn't talk to any of us.'  
  
'He hasn't slept properly for a few days, he's looked exhausted,' Fiona observed.  
  
'When did you get here?' Leo asked.  
  
Josh chose not to answer. 'He's been ... dwelling, it's obvious.'  
  
Leo sighed. 'Is your attention going to be on our problem at all tonight, Josh? Or are you going to be worrying that Sam is being subjected to mental abuses over there in Communications?'  
  
'I ...'  
  
Leo cut him off. 'I need to go there anyway and see if we have a statement. If he looks like he's about to have a breakdown I'll bring him back.'  
  
'Good idea,' Fiona agreed.  
  
'Seriously, where did you come from? You weren't here this morning, right?'  
  
'No.'  
  
'Where were you?'  
  
'I went to see a film. I came in as soon as I came out and checked my cell. About two-thirty.'  
  
'That's it, bells for all the female staff here,' Leo murmured. CJ smirked at him as he left.

* * *

'What does it matter how faithfully you follow the constitution if you ignore morality?'  
  
'Excuse me?' Sam shook his head to help himself think. 'Nobody in this building has ignored morality.'  
  
'Well of course you'd say that, wouldn't you?' Norman Seaborn smirked at his son, knowingly.  
  
'Dad...whatever you mean could you just say it? I've been having a bad day.'  
  
'Tougher than it looks being Bartlet's lapdog?'  
  
'What...'  
  
'You're better than this, Sam. Chasing around after people like him. I really thought you'd come to your senses when you quit. Then you go running back as soon as they ask.'  
  
'I _like_ my job.'  
  
'Shiny new promotion and everything. Did it change anything? Are they any more likely to listen to you now?'  
  
'They listened to me before. That morality question? I'm writing the answer.'  
  
'Sam, come on. You're really telling me that Bartlet is going to listen to you about this? The kid who's let himself get pushed around since he was in high school? You had a good thing at Gage Whitney, I'm sure if you wanted you could get in there again.'  
  
'Interesting how suddenly now you care about your family,' Sam shot back.  
  
'What do you mean by that?' Norman replied icily.  
  
'I actually thought you were here to try and fix things. But you just missed lecturing me. Sorry, you forfeited that right thirty years ago.'  
  
'Don't presume to draw me into your little argument on morals, Sam. It's no wonder they won't let you go off on your self-indulgent ranting in front of the press. It sticks in the craw a little to be preached at by a liar, an absentee father and a drunk. God knows what goes on in here they _don't_ tell us.'  
  
Sam was staring at his father, stricken dumb. 'There were ... so many things wrong with that I don't know where to start.'  
  
'I'm sorry, it's a man _tragically_ struck down by disease, a family whose parents _happen_ not to be married, and a _recovering_ alcoholic,' Norman revised sarcastically.  
  
'How do you dare to stand in this building and say these things? The people who work here are loyal, _that's_ why I came back. If anybody but me could hear you saying this you would have been flattened by now. The President is a good man, the real thing and he cares about _everything_ he does, he didn't tell anyone that he was sick because he wanted to be here fighting the good fight. Toby is _there_ for his kids, which is more than I can say for you. And Leo ... Leo, every day, conquers the kind of demons which would have a man like _you_ screaming into your pillow.'  
  
There was a flurry of movement and a sickening crack.

* * *

Leo had stood outside Sam's door poised to go in when he heard Norman Seaborn tell his only child that he was achieving nothing. He had waited to see if the fight would die down before he entered. Still absorbing Sam's passionate defence he heard the crack and entered the room before he realised what he was doing. Sam's father was frozen, his hand still slightly raised. Sam was on the ground, moving, but looking dazed. The hand at the back of his head implied the more serious collision had been with his desk, not his father's hand. Leo wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. Clearly this came under the topic of his staff's personal lives. And it had always been difficult to know what to do with Sam. Blue eyes observed him from just above ground level, seemingly expecting something. Leo's mind raced in circles until Jed's voice came into his head.  
  
_'In short, to family'  
_  
This was his son and this man had hurt him. This man was the reason that one of his own was lying on the floor with blood pouring out of their head. This man had hurt the kid he would have secretly have been pleased to have as a son-in-law. This man had made his child cry.  
  
'Get out.'  
  
'Mr ... McGarry, yes? That was nothing to do with me. He hit the desk with the back of his head. You know Sam, always tripping over something.'  
  
'He doesn't trip backwards with your finger marks imprinted on his face. I'm sure you didn't mean to give him a head wound, but nobody assaults my staff in my offices.' Leo poked his head through into the bullpen. Sam, luckily, had ordered his staff home. 'Tom?' A secret service agent walked smartly to the door. 'Escort the elder Mr Seaborn off the premises, please. As quietly as possible.'  
  
'Of course, Mr McGarry.'  
  
'Thank you.' Tom led Norman Seaborn efficiently and discretely out of the bullpen. Now what? Head wounds were supposed to be checked, weren't they? How could he do that without alerting the rest of the West Wing? Leo felt the back of Sam's head gingerly. The cut seemed small, but it was swollen and there was a lot of blood. He helped Sam to the couch and then sat behind Toby's desk. He dialled the number for Josh's extension.  
  
'Donna? This is Leo.'  
  
'Leo? Josh is in your office. Or at least he should be.'  
  
'I know, I'm with Sam in Toby's office. Listen, I need you to be calm here. Sam's had a little accident and I can't talk long because it's possible he's concussed. I need you to call the Residence and get the First Lady over here as quietly as possible. As fast as she can make it, without drawing attention to herself. Do you understand?'  
  
'Of course. Is ... is Sam okay?'  
  
'I'm sure he is, but I think these things are supposed to be looked at.'  
  
'Yes. Okay, I'll just go and do that. Should I send someone over to look after Sam?'  
  
'No, that's okay. I'll watch him until she gets here.' He replaced the handset and sat beside his writer. 'Sam?'  
  
'Yeah.'  
  
'I need you to talk to me. I know it's been a long day and you want to rest, but you need to wait, okay?'  
  
'Okay.'  
  
'You need to talk. Anything you want.'  
  
'Insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. And I keep telling him, "I enjoy this. I'm good at it. It's worthwhile. I enjoy this. I'm good at it. It's worthwhile. I enjoy this ...'  
  
'Stop.'  
  
'Sorry.'  
  
'Don't apologise.'  
  
'Sor ...'  
  
Leo sighed, 'It's fine. Sam? Keep talking to me.'  
  
Sam smiled. 'About what?'  
  
'Anything.'  
  
'I don't know.'  
  
'You're a writer, Sam. You observe things. Tell me something you observed.'  
  
'It's funny ...' the man on the couch trailed off distantly.  
  
'What is? Sam, you need to stay awake and keep talking to me 'til Abbey gets here. What's funny?'  
  
'The father thing,' he murmured.  
  
'Hmmm?'  
  
'What are the chances of picking an entire Senior Staff with a thing?' He sounded like this was something he'd been thinking about for a while.  
  
'I get you and Toby. What else?'  
  
'It's not just us. Josh and CJ have this ... they adore their dads. And they're ... they're trying to make them proud of what they're doing. Then Toby ... and you? Trying to make a different way. And then me and the President. Trying to prove them wrong.'  
  
'What do you mean about the President?' Leo asked softly, trying not to break this spell. Sam was being more open then Leo had ever seen him, even when he was drunk.  
  
Sam fixed a mournful gaze upon him. 'You know what the President's father did, Leo.'  
  
'What are you implying, Sam?' He spoke more sharply now, not sure whether he wanted to hear this secret from Sam's lips.  
  
'I'm not implying anything. You said it, I observe. There are thing you notice.'  
  
'From experience?'  
  
'Now you're implying.'  
  
'Sam ...' Leo growled.  
  
'No. My father didn't hit me. No more than anybody else's dad anyway.'  
  
'He hit you today.'  
  
Sam looked like he might have denied it before he caught Leo's frown. 'He slapped me. I did trip, you didn't need to throw him out.'  
  
'Should I not have?'  
  
'No, that was good.' Sam was swaying again and Leo put a hand on his back to keep him upright.  
  
'You really wanted to slap down the Christian Right.'  
  
'I really did.'  
  
'To prove him wrong?'  
  
'Throwing my words back at me?' Sam smiled slightly as he said this.  
  
'They were the kind of words that linger.'  
  
'I didn't mean to offend you.' Again with the bewildered innocence.  
  
'You didn't. You, in fact, made me very glad we're on the same side. I'm just curious.'  
  
'A little bit then. It won't change anything in how he thinks of me. I'll always disappoint him. I could cope with that, you know, when he was "my father", loyal to his wife, always right about what he said. I didn't have those edges rubbed off me. Until ...'  
  
'I remember.  
  
'But still ...'  
  
'I know.'  
  
'Can you talk for a while? I'll nod in the appropriate places, but I'm too tired to tell you anything else.'  
  
'No more revelations about the senior politicians of the country? Okay ... ummm ...  
  
_Once upon a time there was a boy whose family was backwards. He knew that it was meant to be step-mothers that were wicked. That was how it was in the fairytales. But his father, as much as the boy loved him, didn't understand him. Instead, he had two other men who had adopted him as their kid. One of them hadn't realised for a while, because he was pretty bad even at names, let alone picking up four extra children. The other had understood from the moment he saw his extra children in the one room that they were his. Now this particular boy was special because he saw through the barriers people put up for themselves into what the real right thing was. His adopted parents were proud of this, but they listened to him about everything because of who he was, not because of what they had decided he should be. And his brothers and sister were the same, creating a dysfunctional but loyal family. Which wouldn't fall apart, no matter what had happened to the boy's first one.'_  
  
Abbey walked in quietly so she didn't disturb the bizarre sight of Leo McGarry telling fairy stories. When he finished she walked up to the couch and sat on the coffee table.  
  
'Sam?'  
  
'Good evening, Dr Bartlet.'  
  
'Well you don't _sound_ concussed.'  
  
'Abbey...'  
  
'I'm examining him, Leo. I'm sure he's fine. You were right to get me, but he's fine.'  
  
'There was a lot of blood.'  
  
'There usually is with head wounds.'  
  
'He hit the corner of his desk.'  
  
'Kids do that.' She finished examining Sam and put her hand on his cheek. 'You're fine Samuel. You can lie down now if you want.'  
  
'Thank you, ma'am.'  
  
'You're welcome. Leo and I are going to take a walk now, you take a nap and someone will wake you up later, okay.'  
  
'Okay.' He lay sideways and pulled a cushion towards him. A minute later he was asleep and Abbey was walking with Leo down the halls.  
  
'Is he okay?'  
  
'He's fine. That was good of you. To look after him and let him keep it from the rest if he wants to.'  
  
'Yeah.'  
  
'Keep doing that.'  
  
'Yes, ma'am.'  
  
'Good boy.'

* * *

'Sam!'  
  
He woke up, rubbing his eyes and turning bleary eyes on Josh. 'Yeah?'  
  
'Firstly, only you would trip in your own office. Leo said that you were okay but you needed to lie down? Did your dad get away okay before that? Secondly, come on!'  
  
'What?' Sam asked, being dragged from the peace of Toby's office to the noise of Leo's.  
  
'CJ's press conference.'  
  
'Toby wrote the statement?'  
  
'No. It was the weirdest thing. Leo just came in and said there's no elections, to hell with it.'  
  
CJ's voice came from the television in Leo's office. The President, for some reason, had decided to stay and watch in there.  
  
Danny Concanon asked, 'CJ? Is the White House ready to release a response to Rev. Caldwell's remarks?'  
  
'Why yes, Danny, yes we are. The President would like to ask Rev. Caldwell what exactly prompted him to change his mind about the Administration. He would like to know why a man who less than three months ago professed his support, is now accusing the President of hypocrisy. But most of all, the President would like to know how exactly Rev Caldwell defines hypocrisy. To the President, hypocrisy would be belonging to a church that preaches love and acceptance, yet refusing to condemn an organisation that ordered the execution of a seventeen year-old homosexual teenager. Or calling yourself an advocate of the family yet turning on a man trying to see his son, because he's not married to the child's mother. The President feels it is the act of a hypocrite to denounce hatred and vengeance and yet allow attacks on Muslims within your own parish. And most of all, the President feels it is hypocritical to say you love the American constitution and its values and yet encourage acts which exclude people from their own government, and from their schools, on the basis of their religion. The President believes that Rev. Caldwell should examine the hypocrisy in his own movement before he accuses the President of that crime. If the Rev Caldwell would like to respond to that, it is his Constitutional right to do so, no thanks to him. That's a full lid.'  
  
They sat in silence until CJ whirled into Leo's office. She laughed and collapsed into the couch. 'That was a rush.'  
  
'Have fun?' Toby asked, looking around at her.  
  
'Yes, Tobus, I had a great deal of fun.'  
  
'It was apparent,' he muttered.  
  
'Samuel?' the President asked calmly.  
  
'Yes, sir?' Sam answered nervously.  
  
'Good job. I had missed sounding righteously indignant.'  
  
'Thank you, sir.'  
  
'We've just insulted a good proportion of the people in the country, but he gets "good job" because of it?' Toby asked incredulously.  
  
'You don't think he did a good job?' Jed asked.  
  
'I think he did a great job. But I think we're going to run into trouble with it.'  
  
'Running into walls.' Leo agreed.  
  
'Is that a code-phrase?' Fiona asked, as the other smiled in reminiscence.  
  
'It means we need not to be afraid of making big mistakes. Although, I don't think it was one,' Josh answered confidently.  
  
'Neither do I,' inserted CJ, 'but then I'm still high on the buzz of getting to sound right rather than apologetic.'  
  
'Well, of _course_, for the sake of CJ's "buzz" we should risk our approval ratings,' Toby said.  
  
'Oh stop being a killjoy, Ziegler, there's no election to worry about now,' Bartlet laughed. Toby glared and he and the President began a heated argument about whether or not having no election at the end of the four years made him an elected dictator.  
  
'Thanks,' Sam said quietly to Leo.  
  
'I meant what I said, whether you had near-concussion or not, we're proud of you.'  
  
The President heard Leo's comment and turned around. He and Leo had managed a quick conversation since Sam's half-conscious confessions. 'We are indeed.' He raised his voice. 'A toast! To Sam, who has rediscovered his fire.' Glasses were clicked in the air.  
  
'Sam?' Josh asked. 'How did talking to your dad go?'  
  
'The same as always. But I got a new perspective today. I'm good.'  
  
'Really?'  
  
Sam looked around the room, eyes hovering longest on the President and Leo. 'I really am.'

* * *

A/N 2: Review please. And if you see any awful typos or whatever tell me, this a unbetaed and proofread in a bit of a haze. Kisses!


End file.
